


Call Me, Maybe

by xhookswenchx (ReluctantPrincess)



Series: AUs [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Random phone call, Strangers, number on the bathroom wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReluctantPrincess/pseuds/xhookswenchx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian finds her number on the bathroom wall, and when he calls her, she is not what he was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot from this prompt:
> 
> What happens when you actually call one of the numbers off the bathroom wall in a public restroom?
> 
> It evolved. Maybe 2-3 parts if I get enough people wanting it.

If Killian Jones was being completely honest with himself, he was buzzed and well on his way to blitzed. It didn't really matter though, seeing as his goody-two-shoes buddy, Dave, was responsible enough for the both of them. He laughed at the thought as he attempted to stand up long enough to relieve himself.

As he (haphazardly) stood there, he entertained himself by reading the banter written on the bathroom wall. (The Rabbit Hole was such a classy joint.) “Hello,” he smirked, as his eyes fell on what seemed to be a phone number, “what have we here?” It was an archaic tradition, scrawling someone's number on the bathroom wall, but what did he have to lose? After all, the words that accompanied it stated, “for a good time.”

Well, this girl had to be a million times more interesting than the girl Dave and his girlfriend had been trying to set him up with. He was sure Mary Margaret's best friend and roommate was a lovely girl, but he couldn't imagine her as being much different from his sickeningly sweet friends. It wasn't that he was opposed to a relationship per se, he just didn't want some wide eyed, innocent girl. (And what else could he really expect from someone who was so close to the adorable brunette?) No, he wanted something closer to what his friend Victor had with Ruby. A woman with a little more edge to her.

Maybe hoping the girl from the wall was relationship material was a stretch, but at the very least, she had to have a bit of a wild streak. How else would she wind up on the bathroom wall? Killian finished his business, put himself back together, then took out his phone and entered the number.

Deciding the indoor noise level was too loud for a phone call, he rushed out of the bathroom, and practically bowled over Victor in the process.

“Someone's in a hurry to get even more plastered,” Vic teased.

“Bugger off,” he huffed, “with any luck, the lovely lady from the bathroom wall will answer, and I can ditch the lot of you for far more pleasurable company.”

His friend laughed and shook his head in response, muttering something about Killian's current state, wishing him luck, and warning him that herpes was for life. Stupid doctor.

Killian practically ran past Dave and the spot at the bar they'd claimed, offering no explanation other that he needed to make a call. He could feel his friend's curious, and probably slightly worried gaze as he fled the premises, but paid him no mind. The second he was outside, he pressed the call button and listened to a series of rings. Bathroom wall wasn't going to answer. Maybe it was for the best. What was he supposed to say?

“Hello?” The most beautiful (and somewhat sleepy sounding) voice he'd ever heard answered just as he was about to hang up.

Killian's heart almost stopped. “Apologies, lass,” he said, almost reverently, “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Who is this?” She asked, “I don't know any Brits...how did you get my number?”

She sounded frightened, and he hated that it was his call that had done that. He couldn't tell her that her name was on the bathroom wall. Something told him that she was far too precious for such a disgrace. “Again,” he sighed, “apologies. I seem to have misdialed while trying to get in touch with my idiot friend.” A quiet laugh sounded (and God, was it beautiful), and he knew only two things. One, he wanted to keep this woman on the line, and two, he was going to erase her number from the wall the first chance he got. “Allow me to at least properly introduce myself,” he said, “Killian jones.”

“Emma,” she replied, “Emma Swan.”

“Thank you for not hanging up,” he said, earning him another laugh.

“How did you _really_ get my number, Killian?” Emma asked.

Oh God, he wasn't the first to call her. “Emma, don't be angry. It started out less than honorable, but I swear, I have every intention on scrubbing your number off that godforsaken wall.”

“You got my number from a wall?” She sounded hurt.

“Obviously it was someone's idea of a cruel joke-”

“Where?”

“The Rabbit Hole,” he admitted.

“And you thought-”

“I'm drunk, sweetheart,” he said, “I was only being stupid.” 

“You're really going to take my number off the wall?” She asked. She was upset, and doing nothing to hide it. He felt like a tool. What kind of asshole called up random numbers like that?

“I'll hang up right now and take care of it,” he assured her. “No one else will bother you, love.”

“Thank you.” She said before hanging up. One thing was certain now, he had zero chance with Emma Swan.

What the hell was wrong with him? He wanted to kick his own ass for being so stupid. Was he really so desperate that he thought calling a random number from the wall was a good idea? He marched back into the bar, made his way to the bathroom and located Emma's number. He took a quick picture before scrubbing it off. Thankfully, it was only pen, and came off easily. He took another picture of his handiwork, then sent both to Emma, proclaiming her honor restored. He didn't expect to hear back from her, so when her number popped up with a text, he was surprised.

_Thank you._

**Any time** , he typed back, **no one will bother you again, Swan.**

_Killian?_

**Aye?**

_It's okay if you bother me again sometime._

**As you wish...**

Well, he might just have a chance with the Swan girl after all...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma, sick of her friends trying yet again to set her up, creates plans for the evening, in hopes of avoiding Mary Margaret, David, and their friend. Killian is happy to be a part of this plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Okay, so here's part two. Hope you enjoy! This bit of fluff has certainly helped improve my mood!

**_As you wish..._ **

A week had gone by, and Emma found herself not only enjoying Killian's random texts, but looking forward to them, and losing herself in the easy banter that passed between them.

“Who have you been texting so much this week?” Mary Margaret, her roommate, asked as she busied herself around the apartment, no doubt getting ready to meet David somewhere.

“Old friend,” Emma lied. Did her best friend _really_ need to know she'd met some random, drunken stranger over some sick prank? No, Mary Margaret would probably freak out and lecture her about strange men.

“Speaking of friends,” the petite brunette smiled, and Emma didn't bother to suppress a groan. She knew what was coming. “We're all going out tonight. I think David has a craving for Granny's.”

“Let me guess, you, David, Victor, Ruby, and that guy you've been trying to set me up with for the past three weeks? No thanks.” It wasn't that she was opposed to meeting David's new friend, she just didn't want to meet him under the pretense of being set up. He was new in town, just in from New York, and her ever meddling friends had decided to play matchmaker. “Besides,” she shrugged, “I've got plans.”

“Staying home and texting your _old friend_ doesn't count.” The emphasis she placed on “old friend” made it quite clear that she didn't buy Emma's fib. “And can't you just give the guy a chance? He's not an ogre.”

Of course he wasn't, but that wasn't the point. “I'm just...not interested in pity setups, and it's horrible that you're trying to screw over some poor guy by sticking him with me.”

“Emma-”

“Look,” she interrupted, “I'm sure he's great, but if I really wanted a man in my life, I would find one. On my own.”

“Okay,” Mary Margaret held up her hands in defeat. “I'm going over to see David. Have fun with your phone tonight.”

Emma scowled as her friend left the left the apartment. Determined to prove her “charming” friends wrong, she turned to her phone.

_Busy tonight?_

She waited nervously for his reply, wondering if she was making a mistake. Sure, they'd been talking all week, but she knew very little about this man. Their conversations never got overly personal, and despite the fact that their phones were both capable of taking and sending pictures, neither had crossed that particular line. Not that she was shallow, but what if the hot, British guy she'd pictured turned out to be some old, creepy pervert?

**Are you asking me out, Swan?**

It was a risk, she knew it, but what was the harm? She could meet him in a public place, and peace out if he was horrible. Something told her though, that she'd have a good time, and that this random stranger was worth getting to know better.

_Yes._

**And where would the lovely lady like to go?**

Emma thought about it for a moment. There wasn't really much to do in Storybrooke. She could take him to Granny's, if only to prove to her best friend that she wasn't staying home all night, but then she'd never hear the end of it, and Killian would probably get bombarded with questions. Yeah, she wasn't going to go there.

_How about the Rabbit Hole?_

**You're far too classy for that dump.**

_Says the man who found my number on the bathroom wall there..._

**I apologized!**

_I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant if it weren't for that “dump” we might never have met._

**Sentimental? How about nine?**

_Nine works._

**So, should we exchange pics or should we be surprised?**

_Afraid you just made a date with an ogre?_

**Absolutely not. Your voice is far too lovely to belong to any such creature.**

Oh god, she was blushing. She debated sending a picture, then decided against it. Something about the mystery made it all the more entertaining, so instead, she sent three words:

_Red. Leather. Jacket._

***

Killian was nervous as hell. There was something about this woman that had his stomach in knots. He'd turned down another offer from Dave (more like another attempt to set him up) and stated he had plans, only to be surprised when Emma turned his little lie into the truth.

Now, he was standing outside the Rabbit Hole, probably looking like an ass as he debated whether or not it was too early to go in and start looking for his mystery woman. He still had ten minutes...would she be early too?

He was stalling, and he knew it. What if his goddess found him unworthy of her attention? Why was he suddenly self conscious? He'd never been shy before...

With a final sigh, and silent pep talk, he made his way inside. Instead of finding red leather though, he found Dave, Victor, Ruby and Mary Margaret. His friend caught sight of him, and Killian groaned as Dave waved him over. He did _not_ have time for this, and if they were all here, he was certain Mary Margaret's roommate would show up soon.

“Aren't you supposed to be at Granny's?” He asked, refusing to sit down and get comfortable.

“After party,” David explained, “wanna join?”

“I've got plans, mate,” Killian shrugged, doing a quick scan of the room. That's when he saw the jacket. He quickly muttered his goodbyes, and tried not to run towards the blonde who'd just walked in. One couldn't seem too eager, after all. “Emma?”

When she turned towards him, he felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. She wasn't just pretty, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Then, she smiled at him, and he was surprised he didn't drop dead right there. “I'm guessing you're Killian?”

“Aye...” Was all he could manage.

“Emma!” They both looked towards the voice, and he heard Emma grumble something.

“You know them?” He asked.

“Yes,” she sighed, “and they're supposed to be at Granny's. I was hoping to avoid them. See the woman that's waving like a maniac? That's my roommate, and she keeps trying to set me up with her boyfriend's friend.” He snapped his attention back towards her, and she wasn't going to lie, it made her a little nervous. "What?"

“ _You're_ Mary Margaret's roommate?” He asked in disbelief. There was no way. It was absolutely impossible that _this_ was the woman they were trying to set him up with. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Emma run off and have a little adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just keeping this lighthearted and humorous. Hope you enjoy!

“ _You're_ Mary Margaret's roommate?”

Emma's jaw dropped in disbelief. Was this the guy they'd been trying to set her up with? “They said you were from New York!”

He laughed, _the nerve_ , “I moved here from New York, yes.”

“You never mentioned that,” she scolded, just like her stupid friends didn't mention the guy they'd been trying to set her up with was British.

“You never asked, darling,” he grinned. Oh god. As if he wasn't gorgeous enough. That silly, lopsided smile of his made the butterflies go crazy. “And you never mentioned a roommate, so if we're going to place blame-”

“Let's run.” She couldn't even stop herself. Currently, she was in straight up panic mode. She liked this guy, so that would earn her a big, fat “I told you so” from Mary Margaret. Then, when it didn't work out, she'd have to deal with the fallout. David might never forgive her if she hurt his friend  

“Emma!” Mary Margaret called again.

“I really don't want to listen to Dave gloat about this,” he said. Emma watched him pull his keys out of his pocket. “My car was built for speed. We can make a quick getaway, and refuse to answer for our actions tomorrow.”

“Which car?” She asked.

“Red Corvette.” He pressed a button on his key fob, “and she's ready to go.”

Emma didn't need to be told twice. She looked back over at her friend, blew a kiss, then took off running. Killian was right on her heels, and it sounded like he was laughing just as much as she was. It didn't take long to spot his car. The shiny, red Corvette stuck out like a sore thumb.

Then Killian, gentleman that he was, rushed to get in front of her so he could open her door. Smooth bastard.

“We lie,” he said, once they were in, buckled and peeling out of the parking lot. “They'll inevitably ask us how we met, so we lie.”

“Trying to save face?” Emma laughed.

“For both of us,” Killian stated.

Well, it made sense, he didn't want them to know he _called_ a number off the bathroom wall, and she didn't want anyone to know her number had _been_ on the bathroom wall. “Works for me,” she agreed. “Where are we going, anyway?” She realized that was probably something she should have asked before she got into the car with him.

“I have a boat,” he answered, “we're going to park my car at the house, and then run on down to the dock. It isn't far."

Why not?

***

“This has got to be the most childish thing I've ever done!” Emma giggled as he started up the boat. It wasn't much, just a little speedboat he'd been working on since he moved to town, but it was good for aiding in their escape.

She was right, it was ridiculously childish, but he had to admit, it was kind of fun. The boat was loud, and he would probably get some complaints in the morning, but he didn't care. Emma looked like she was having the time of her life. Her long, blonde tresses would likely be a tangled mess by the time they were done, but the thought must not have crossed her mind at all as she encouraged him to go faster.

“You're not what I expected!” He shouted over the noise. “I mean...as Mary Margaret's roommate!” From his conversations with Emma, she seemed to be Mary Margaret's polar opposite.

“What did you expect?” She shouted back.

They were out far enough, he decided, and they could start the engine up again in a minute. Right now, he just wanted to get to know this crazy, beautiful woman sitting next to him. “I expected,” he said after shutting the engine off, “a wide eyed, innocent, Mary Margaret clone. That's not a bad thing, she's a lovely woman...just not my type.”

“What _is_ your type, Killian?” A playful smirk crossed her face.

“Emma Swan,” he smirked right back at her.

“That has got to be the cheesiest pickup line I've ever heard.”

“Did it work?”

Her answer came in the form of a soft, sweet, kiss.

***

After the weather took a turn for the frigid, Killian turned the boat around, and headed back to the dock. Their escape, while fun, had come to an end. He was pretty sure their friends would be annoyed at the very least, but he couldn't be bothered by the thought.

By the time they were back on dry land, Emma was shaking like a leaf. He quickly slipped out of his coat and wrapped it around her, even though it probably wasn't going to do much good. “Thanks,” she laughed, “but now I have two coats and you're going to freeze.”

“Nonsense, love,” he shrugged, “I'm fine. Let's get the car warmed up and I can get you home.”

“I can't go home!” She exclaimed. After glancing at her watch, she looked back at him, “Mary Margaret is probably home by now, and she's going to be waiting up for me.”

“She's not spending the night at Dave's?”

“No. They're weird like that,” Emma shrugged. “I mean, they were that adorable pair in high school that everyone said should have been together, but it never happened. Then, we all parted ways, went to college, and came back last year. It still took them a long time after that to finally hook up. So...I guess you could say this is still sort of new for them.”

“How new?” He asked. Because the way things looked to him, it was as if they'd been together forever.

“Four months or so?”

So, not long before he showed up. No wonder they were so intent on finding him a girlfriend. They were still in their “happy together so we must pair everyone off so they can be as happy as us,” stage. “It's just that they seem so...so...”

“Married?” Emma giggled. “Yeah. But, I hope that doesn't happen any time soon.”

“Why not?”

“I hate moving.” When he gave her a confused look, she shook her head, “no, they wouldn't kick me out, but I'd rather die than live with newly weds. Especially those two.”

“Perhaps you have a point there,” he chuckled. “But if you insist on avoiding a roommate lecture, you're more than welcome to stay with me tonight.” He winced, “that sounded like another ridiculous line. I meant, I don't mind sleeping on the couch.”

“I may not be bathroom wall material,” she gave him a quick nudge, “but I'm not a prude by any stretch of imagination, and it's not right to kick a man out of his own bed when he's offering you a place to crash for the night.”

He didn't say anything to that, just nudged her right back. It would be easy to fall for her, of that, he was certain. It wasn't until they were inside, and she was comfy in his pajamas, all cuddled up next to him, that he realized he was already halfway there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Emma confront their friends. The truth comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...how about that finale? I have never had a show sucker punch me so hard I felt it the next day. I'm still emotional.

Killian had a good laugh on Sunday, when Emma called him up and complained about getting the third degree. _“God, she thinks she's my mother or something!”_ He, however, didn't have to deal with anything until Monday, when he showed up at the animal shelter.

Fortunatley, they'd come up with a decent, yet somewhat vague, story on how they happened to meet.

“You know I've been trying to set you up for weeks,” David complained, “it would have been nice to know you'd already met. how did you meet, anyway?”

“Over coffee at Granny's,” Killian shrugged.

“Ruby didn't seem to know a thing about that,” David pried.

“Is she there all day, every day?” Killian countered, “it was a brief meeting, I spilled my coffee when we collided, and offered her my number so I could pick up her tab for the dry cleaning. I suppose I was charming enough to get a second conversation.”

“Weird,” he mused, “she isn't the type to give out her number...” He continued to mutter as he went about his Monday checklist. Killian took the opportunity to check on the two dogs that had found their way into the shelter over the weekend. When he was absolutely certain his friend was occupied, he took his phone out and sent a text to Emma.

**Dave is trying to pick our story apart.**

_Don't get too detailed! They'll see right through it!_

“Hey!” David wandered towards Killian, his voice ringing through the silence almost causing Killian to drop his phone. “Since we all know that Emma is your mystery girl, maybe you two can join us at Granny's for lunch this afternoon. I mean, the secret's out, so why not?”

“I can ask...” He shrugged, “do...ah...you know where she works?” If he was going to ask her to lunch, he was going to be a proper gentleman and pick her up. David gave him a funny look, and Killian just rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he grumbled, “forget it. I'll ask her myself.” Work wasn't something they'd discussed.

**Dave wants us to meet them for lunch. Might you tell me where your office is, so I can offer the lady a ride?**

_How about I offer you one? I usually take the squad car when we do lunch._

“I'm dating a cop?” Killian asked to no one in particular, not realizing David was still right there.

“Did you two just skip getting to know each other and...you know what? Never mind.” David sighed and went back to the front when the door chimes signaled an arrival.

**I work with Dave. Shouldn't be too hard to find. ;)**

He was dating a freaking cop, and she was going to pick him up in...oh, he'd have to make some ridiculous comment about handcuffs at some point.

***

How in the hell had she avoided him for so long? Killian seemed to be pretty close with David and Victor, so he ran in the same circle, and even though Emma knew a set up when she saw one, and avoided it, there was just no way she could have missed him without some serious effort.

Oh, right. She _did_ put in some serious effort. The second her roommate let the secret slip, (she was so horrible at keeping secrets, Emma wasn't sure why anyone told her anything.) Emma had made a silent vow to avoid get togethers until the storm had passed.

So, why was she driving towards the animal shelter to get Killian for lunch? Fate just had to intervene, didn't it?

The funny thing was, she didn't do relationships, and she even told him so. He didn't seem to care. “It's not a relationship, love,” he'd teased, “just two people enjoying one another's company.”

Yes, and when two people stopped paying attention to what was happening, they usually woke up in a relationship. Still, she liked him, and he seemed genuinely interested in her, so she decided to give it a shot.

Interestingly enough, when she retrieved him from the shelter, he seemed just as uneasy as she did about the whole lunch thing. He mentioned something about handcuffs (idiot) and they shared a giggle, but then he went silent.

“What did you tell David?” Emma asked, breaking the silence as she parked in front of Granny's, “so we can keep our stories straight.” It felt a little funny, coming up with a ridiculous lie, that they'd likely have to tell for the entirety of their relationship. (However long that was.)

“I just stuck to the story,” he stated. “I didn't give him any information outside what we agreed upon.”

Their entire story was blown to smithereens within seconds after sitting at the table. Victor asked them how they met, and when they relayed the fictional tale, (to everyone this time) he laughed. “No, tell them how you _really_ met.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, mate?” Killian attempted to brush it off, but Victor was almost in tears. Everyone else at the table (even Ruby, his usual partner in crime) looked completely lost.

“She's the girl from the bathroom wall,” Victor blurted out. How the hell did he know that?

“What?” David and Mary Margaret said in unison.

“Oh Vic,” Ruby scolded, “you didn't.”

“What did you do?” David asked.

“I knew there was no way in hell Killian would ever agree to meeting Emma, so long as you two kept pushing her like she was Mary Margaret's adorable roommate,” Victor explained. “So, after a few weeks of watching the two of you fail, I took matters into my own hands. We all know that tipsy Killian makes terrible life desicions, so I made sure to put her number where he'd see it.”

“Then why didn't you erase it after I called?” Killian frowned, “you knew I was calling her, you went into the bathroom right after me!”

“Killian,” Emma tried her best to calm him. He was angry, which was understandable, but things couldn't escalate. She didn't want to have to arrest the guy for a public disturbance.

“Sorry,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Care to continue?” He asked his friend.

“Right,” Victor nodded, “so I went in to scrub the number off, and I realized there was another one close by. I wasn't sure which girl you'd called. So, I prayed it was the right one, and erased the second one, just in case. When you came back, you looked kind of pissed off, and went straight for the bathroom. When I went back, the number was gone, so I knew you'd removed it.”

“Because I thought a bunch of arses were bothering her over a stupid prank!” Killian growled, “I _had_ to take her number down.”

“You were the only arse,” Emma giggled.

“But, it sounded like there had been others,” he said, “you questioned how I got your number-”

“Because I thought you were yet another in a string of guys my roommate has been trying to set me up with.” She shot a pointed look at her sweet, innocent roommate. “Mary Margaret has given my number out before, and not always to people I'd want to have it.”

“Sorry?” Mary Margaret shrugged, “I haven't done that in a long time, and Walsh finally stopped bugging you. Plus, I've apologized profusely since then.”

“I know,” Emma smiled, “but at the time, it was the option that made the most sense, especially since you were both hounding me to meet this guy.”

“So when are _you_ going to apologize?” Killian was apparently seconds away from murdering Victor. She found it funny that fate had a little nudge from the one guy in their group who never got involved with David and Mary Margaret's set up plans.

Victor looked over at Emma, probably seeking redemption. She should have been angry, but for some reason, she just couldn't find it in her. Besides, Killian seemed to be angry enough for the both of them. “I really didn't think it was harmful,” Victor stated, “I mean, you're the one who called the number, what does that say about you?”

“It says he started the night with a bad desicion, but wound up defending my honor instead of trying for a hookup.” Emma said. It was the main reason she didn't block his number. (And the fact that he was so darn sweet about it only helped his case.)

“Which means,” David interrupted, “I would have killed you had she clued me in that some guy named Killian was randomly calling for a hookup.”

Emma rolled her eyes, “I'm not sixteen, and you're not my dad. Put the shotgun away.” She looked back at Victor, “so this whole time, you knew. You knew that we were talking to each other, but you didn't say anything.”

“Why mess with a good thing?” Victor shrugged, “Killian seemed completely enamoured by the girl he was texting, and figured that when the time came, you'd both find out that the two idiots were trying to set you up all along. But really, Killian did need a shove in the right direction.”

“Emma did too!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

“She's more stubborn than Killian,” Ruby giggled, “you've gotta shove the one that will actually budge.”

“She budges just fine when she's running away,” David said, “you two mind telling us what that was all about?”

Emma snickered when Killian nervously scratched behind his ear, as if it would help him come up with a reasonable explanation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment is here!!! Hope you enjoy!

One thing was certain, Killian was full of surprises. Aside from the rough around the edges, bad boy persona he took on, there was a sweet, sentimental idiot hiding behind the leather.

It started a week after that first, uncomfortable lunch with their friends. That very next Monday, there was a little vase, filled with buttercups was waiting for her at the office. This earned her some good natured ribbing from Graham, her boss, who was always on the receiving end of her rants whenever her friends tried to set her up.

“There's a card,” he stated, “promise I didn't read it.”

Emma laughed, and rolled her eyes, noticing the little envelope had been tampered with. “Sure you didn't,” she teased as she opened it.

_Swan,_

_Apologies for being so busy last week. It was a pleasure seeing you for dinner on Friday. Perhaps we can grab lunch today, without our posse?_

_-K_

Normally, Emma wasn't the type to care for flowers, but she couldn't deny that this time, there was a bit of swooning involved.

It was the first time she'd come to find flowers on her desk, but she soon realized it wouldn't be the last.

Before she even knew what was happening, she found herself in an actual relationship that was worth the time and effort. Just three months down the road, she noticed her things had started taking up residence at his house. A toothbrush here, pair of shoes there, a couple outfits and her favorite pillow... Eventually, he had little closet space of his own, but he didn't complain.

Then, a couple months after that, Mary Margaret and David sent them ( _them_...as in together, not separately with a plus one...) a wedding invitation, that she realized she'd practically moved in. When the hell had that happened?

“So...” Killian mused, toying with the invitation, “I guess you're living here now?” He never pushed her for anything, always letting her do things in her own way and time, but the way he said it made her think that maybe this wasn't so scary. He was a good guy, and she enjoyed being with him, and she wouldn't stick around if she didn't love him.

 _Wait_.

She loved him! She loved him, and she'd never once said the words! What the hell kind of girlfriend _was_ she? Here was her very own version of Prince Charming, (though he fancied himself more of a pirate) and she had been so terrified of making it real by uttering the phrase. But it _was_ real. So it snuck up on her, and she did exactly what she swore she'd never do again. Did it matter? He expected nothing, while giving her everything, and she couldn't even tell him how she felt?

“Emma?” He asked, “I was teasing, love. Merely making a joke about our meddling friends. There's no pressure-”

“I love you,” she said. The way his eyes lit up when she told him...well, there was nothing more beautiful on god's green earth.

“I love you too,” he said.

“Do you... _want_ me to live here?”

“More than anything.” He tossed the invitation to the counter and gathered her up in his arms, kissing her senseless.

She moved the rest of her things that weekend. Her best friend just gave her a knowing grin that said it all.

***

Just a few months later (on the anniversary of that not so random phone call) she noticed he'd scrawled something on their bathroom mirror in dry erase marker.

_One year ago today, a drunken idiot called a number he found on the bathroom wall. The last thing he ever expected, was for the beautiful woman on the other end to give him a chance he didn't deserve. Perhaps tonight, she wouldn't mind meeting up to celebrate a most unconventional anniversary?_

Underneath the message, he'd written his phone number.

Silly, adorable man.

There was something about the way the message was written though, that told her this wasn't going to be just some random celebration. After she'd called and hung up the phone, confirming time and location for their date, she was almost one hundred percent certain that he was planning to propose.

The last time a guy proposed to her, she was still in school. He made some huge, public spectacle after they'd only dated a few, short months. She wasn't in love with him, and wondered what she'd done to cause him to think proposing was a good idea.

To say things ended badly after she ran out of the restaurant, was an understatement.

But this time, it didn't seem so scary. In fact, she was excited.

And when he proposed at dinner that night, she even cried.

Tears of joy, of course.

Six months later, they were married.

Just about every toast at the reception started with, “I told you so.”

Except for Victor's, that arrogant bastard, of _course_. His entire speech was just a gesture in their direction, followed by, “see what happens when you call the number you find on the bathroom wall?”


End file.
